


all good things.

by towards



Category: South Park
Genre: Break Up, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Substance Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 14:05:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21209783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/towards/pseuds/towards
Summary: The death of their relationship is a supernova. Quiet, at first. An ending. But what comes after, the fighting, the things that can’t be taken back - it rocks the school, and word gets out fast. Craig Tucker is straight and Tweek Tweak needs to get over it.  Their friends tentatively take sides -- Clyde takes Craig’s because they’ve been closer for longer, and Token takes his because someone has to keep Tweek off the edge. Jimmy does his damnedest to stay neutral. The strain is palpable and the pressure is back, Tweek had forgotten what it was like to shoulder it all alone and the weight nearly buckles him.





	all good things.

They called it quits.

_I’m just not gay_, he’d said. _I can’t help who I’m attracted to. It’s not men. And it’s not you._

Had he been afraid of this happening?

Had it crossed his mind after the first year, that one day, Craig would wake up and realize he felt _nothing? That this perfect thing_ was all in his head and the second he got attached, it would be gone.

No. No, he had allowed himself to _trust in it_.

_You’ve got **spikes** man. You’e got spikes._

The death of their relationship is a supernova. Quiet, at first. An ending. But what comes after, the fighting, the things that can’t be taken back - it rocks the school, and word gets out _fast_. Craig Tucker is straight and Tweek Tweak needs to get over it. Their friends tentatively take sides -- Clyde takes Craig’s because they’ve been closer for longer, and Token takes his because _someone_ has to keep Tweek off the edge. Jimmy does his damnedest to stay neutral. The strain is palpable and the pressure is back, Tweek had forgotten what it was like to shoulder it all alone and the weight nearly buckles him.

Because even before they’d dated, even before they’d been roped into that web of feelings, Craig had been the closest thing to a _best friend_ he’d ever had. The fallout destroys that, rots it so nothing will ever grow again and corrodes the core. He reaches out on Facebook a few months later, tentatively trying to mend the bridge. It’s a trip to the movies to catch something stupid and silly that they’d like as kids, j_ust friends_ but Craig brings a girl and he knows what that means, what statement he’s making, and so he gets up and excuses himself from the theater before it even starts.

Thad Jarvis had grabbed his arm, catching the sight of tears and offering the solution in the form of a pill. He tries to argue, _I don’t --_ but the words died and he remembered the coffee and the twitches and everything that _wasn’t_ ADD.

So he took the blue pill. Leaving the real world behind. Clyde, Token and Jimmy eventually fade from view - he catches glimpses of them, declines hanging out - _he has work_ and now that he’s older his father doesn’t let him weasel out of it with _play time. _He’s too damn old for that. He sees Craig in the hallways, cheerleaders on his arm. Bright and confident, _his flame burning brightest. Maybe he wasn’t gay, maybe he was happy now. _They’re all sports stars and elementary school friendships weren’t built to last. Tweek shrugs skinny shoulders when they offer apologies, hangouts are missed, but he gets the feeling that some are more intentional than others. He’s bouncing off the walls in a way he never did before and nobody’s quite gotten over the paranoid ranting he’d done for that one history project.

( He’d been _right_ though. )

They were happy now.

He hoped _he _was happy now.

Yet resentment curled in his gut. Anger, _how dare he_ lead him on for _years_? How dare he, how dare he, how _fucking dare he _and he has to take something to get his ind off of it. Uppers, downers, whatever the hell makes his brain slow the fuck down so he can _think_.

He wants to talk to Craig sometimes, go _back_ to friendship, he _misses_ him. But then he thinks about the undercurrent to his voice. The subtle implication that he _wasn’t gay_ because there was something _wrong_ with it and the distance between them became an infinite chasm. Something was wrong.

Between work and school he has no free time, so it doesn’t matter. If Craig’s girlfriends want coffee he doesn’t go in with them, and he can see the girls giving him a smug little look. Like they’ve somehow won a game he’s stopped playing. But what little he does is hijacked by Stan or Kyle fr schemes for profit. They want to go to a party, and Tweek’s got an invite from one of the Raisins girls -- apparently _crazy_ doesn’t detract from _hotness_ and they go, it’s a mess. The night’s a blur and he knows that come morning he regrets waking up with Porsche curled up on his arm.

_( She smiles in a pretty way, no offense taken when he gets to his feet. They didn’t do anything, they kissed and fell asleep, and yet somehow that feels worse, “you looked like you could use some cheering up, cutie. Did it help?”_

_No, he doesn’t, no it didn’t, no he’s sorry. )_

It continues on like that. He parties without really _partying_. Goes for the sound and the noise but huddles up in a corner and eventually someone will approach, and before long it’s not just kissing. They think he’s cute and he thinks they’re company and they go to bed to not be lonely for a while, but come morning he opens his mouth and they hear the stutter or notice the tics in more detail, or heaven forbid experience the nightmares, and reluctantly move on.

It’s somewhere between May and June that he has enough of Eric Cartman’s underhanded comments and smug looks. All it takes is _one snide comment_

( “oh come _on tweek, for a guy who gets around so much you sure are being a little bitch--” )_

before Tweek has dropped his books, hauled him down by the front of his shirt, and slammed their heads together. He beats his smug face purple and blue with sharp, bony fists and gets hauled off snarling obscenities and promises to show him what he could be if pushed. Cartman’s bigger than him and several weight classes heavier and gets a few solid hits in, but his pride is more brusied than anything else.

( The school won’t press charges against him. They know Eric’s record. He’d do it again in a heartbeat, why did he ever try to do anything _sober_ when having no inhibitions was _great_? )

But he sits outside the office, nursing bruised knuckles and a swollen lip. Not looking up at the sound of familiar footsteps.

“You sit on your bench, and I’ll sit on mine, and we won’t talk.” His legs jitter against the floor and he clenches his eyes shut tightly, turning away and flips a finger up. That’s all he has to say.


End file.
